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BIG GAY

@lesbianprocessing / lesbianprocessing.tumblr.com

if my mom is reading this it's too late 20 ● corporeal shell ● butch (tubbs is a gift and i'll fight u)
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what I find bizarre is that I've always felt butch, always felt that I was waiting for the moment I could just be, and to be was to be, essentially, butch. this now seems bizarre because I question my choice to present this way so often. because I see how people react to me and I start to think that maybe I have gone too far outside the realm of what is acceptable, or that I've fallen prey to some radical idea of how one should behave that isn't actually feasible outside of the insulated progressive pockets from which I hail. but then I remember my basketball shorts. the ponytail I wore every day for 6 years. the pairs of sneakers that I loved and wore holes in. I have simply always felt more at ease outside of femininity. So the fact that I've come so far as to question why I look like this, when the origin/answer is so obvious, speaks both to how far I've come and to what lies ahead of me as a butch person in the larger world.

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I’m not even going to address anon directly, because seriously, fuck that guy.  For the rest of you who may be wondering how I POSSIBLY manage living as a fat person, let me explain how I do it: 

I do it by making time for fun things as often as possible. Like riding carousels while morbidly obese. I  have the gall to do this in front of children. 

I do it by making sure my skin is always moisturized and cleansed. I know it’s shocking, but my glowing, fat face feels great after a seaweed-based exfoliant mask. 

I do it by finding time for my interests and hobbies. I’m an amateur mycologist. You may think it’s frightening for a fat forager to find fungi, but I think it’s fantastic.    

I do it by surrounding myself with wholesome, non-judgmental people. A fat person with friends and family?!? It’s more likely than you think. 

I do it by wearing bright colors and taking any opportunity for a photo shoot. Surprisingly, my fatness hasn’t broken a camera yet. 

I do it by singing loudly and flamboyantly. Much as you’ve been told fat people spend 99% of our time gasping for air, I actually have pretty solid breath control. 

I do it by pursuing my education. Don’t worry, they let me skip the part of the bar exam that asks for your BMI.

I do it by having an adorable, supportive partner. We even make out with the lights ON most of the time! 

I do it by creating safe spaces in my home. I love decorating for holidays and dinner parties. The tinsel really compliments my back rolls! 

I do it by adopting fluffy animal friends. Mr. Fluff here may always have a look of existential dread on his face, but he’s not once had a problem with my weight. 

I do it by spending time in nature. Trees and green spaces are very healing! Yes, even for a fatty like me. 

I do it by making this face at people who tell me that since I’m fat I can’t have all the things I already have. I have the audacity to believe that I will one day accomplish all the important goals I have set out for myself! I’m a fat person and I have value.  I’m a fat person and I can realize my dreams.  I’m a fat person and I have a happy, fulfilling life.  That’s not going to change no matter how many anons send me hateful messages.  To all my fat family out there, you deserve a support network of caring people who don’t care about your weight. You deserve to achieve your goals. You deserve respect. You deserve happiness.  Don’t let anyone tell you differently. 

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poesizing
Ugly is more than a physical description. For a woman, it’s meant to be shorthand for worthless, undesirable, and undeserving. And lesbians are by popular definition ugly women. This categorization of dykes as ugly serves a purpose. It’s not only meant to make claiming the identity less appealing, it also provides a perfect explanation for why some women choose women over men. In fact, it’s meant to rob us of that choice: presumably, we are involved with women because we are too ugly to attract a man’s attention. The problem is, we don’t seem to be aware of how ugly we really are.

“The Ugly Dyke”, Wendy Chapkis from Looking Queer: Body Image in Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, and Transgender Communities, ed Dawn Atkins (via poesizing)

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e-sadg

Lesbian life stages:

1. not knowing who Jenny Schecter is 2. hating Jenny Schecter 3. sympathizing with Jenny Schecter 4. recognizing and accepting the Jenny Schecter in yourself

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Here’s something to chew on.

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coldasaslab

about me.jpg

honestly

In case you wanna read the article this quote is from: http://rolereboot.org/culture-and-politics/details/2016-05-daughter-know-ok-angry/

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cygnaut
Adaptable girls find socially acceptable ways to internalize or channel their discomfort and ire, sometimes at great personal cost. Passive aggressive behavior, anxiety, and depression are common effects. Sarcasm, apathy, and meanness have all been linked to suppressed rage. Troublesome behaviors, such as lying, skipping school, bullying other people, even being socially awkward are often signs that a teenager is dealing with anger that they are unable to name as anger.
Girls, taught to ignore their anger, become disassociated from themselves.
Anger is so successfully sublimated that girls lose the ability to understand what it feels and looks like. Is her heart racing? Does she feel flushed or shaky? Does she clench her jaws at night? Is she breaking out in hives? Does she cry for no reason? Laugh inappropriately during difficult conversations? Fly off the handle over something that seems inconsequential? You can see where I’m going here…those crazy girl hormones, right? Better to just think of it as a phase.
For too many women, however, the phase never ends. It’s lives spent never expressing anger at all and believing that they don’t have the right or ability to do so without great risk.

volunteering with high schoolers at risk of not graduating rn and this rings so true of the girls' behavior